


Rooftop Rendezvous

by eclecticxdetour



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fake AH Crew, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Present Tense, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclecticxdetour/pseuds/eclecticxdetour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan beckons Michael to the roof to celebrate a job well done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rooftop Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted [HERE](http://eclecticxdetour.tumblr.com/post/123610830801/gta-myan-where-ryan-finishes-a-side-job-hes-been) in response to an "anon's" prompt: _gta!myan where ryan finishes a side job he's been working on with jack and ryan texts michael, "meet me on the roof." it's been a long day but michael treks up the stairs and out into the fresh air. the sky painted with oranges, yellows, and pinks. a ways out there's a parachute coming his direction. after a while, michael recognizes the form as ryan. "fuckin' cool guy haywood over here," says michael when ryan lands. dropping his parachute, ryan walks over and kisses michael and then they fuck._
> 
> This iteration has some additions.

**Title** : Rooftop Rendezvous  
**Pairing** : Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones  
**Word Count** : 1333  
**Rating** : 18+  
**Warnings** : Alternate Universe - GTA, Fake AH Crew, implied canon typical violence, established relationship, semi-public sex, frottage, as much fluff as this type of universe can have  
**Spoilers** : None  
**Disclaimer** : I don't own or know any of these people. This is created from my imagination and I thought I would share.  
**Summary** : Ryan beckons Michael to the roof to celebrate a job well done.  
**A/N** : This was originally posted [HERE](http://eclecticxdetour.tumblr.com/post/123610830801/gta-myan-where-ryan-finishes-a-side-job-hes-been) in response to an "anon's" prompt:  _gta!myan where ryan finishes a side job he's been working on with jack and ryan texts michael, "meet me on the roof." it's been a long day but michael treks up the stairs and out into the fresh air. the sky painted with oranges, yellows, and pinks. a ways out there's a parachute coming his direction. after a while, michael recognizes the form as ryan. "fuckin' cool guy haywood over here," says michael when ryan lands. dropping his parachute, ryan walks over and kisses michael and then they fuck._

Gavin gets taken down by a charger, and just as Michael's running to revive him a jockey jumps on his neck and rides him off of the edge of the roller coaster. “FUCK,” he shouts, huffing through his nose and handing Ray his controller. He slumps back into the couch and finishes off his beer, watching Ray and Gavin try to get to the next safe room. Geoff has long since gone to bed. Or to his room, at least. Guy can never sleep well when Jack's not in.

That's not to say that _he's_ still awake because Ryan's out, too. Michael's most definitely  _not_ a little bitch like Geoff is.

He _does not_ grin dopily down at his phone when it buzzes a few seconds later. Michael opens Ryan's _meet me on the roof_ and loudly sets his empty beer on the side table. “Lads,” he says, standing from the couch and winking at them once he has their attention, “have fun with the gaimz.”

Ray and Gav make retching noises, Gavin actually gagging, and Ray thumps Gavin's back with his fist. Michael snickers, making his way out of the penthouse and up the stairs to the roof deck.

Blues and purples of the early morning sky brighten into orange and pinks in the distance. The VINEWOOD sign stands starkly against the hillside. He stands near the edge of the roof, aircraft coming in from the northwest. It putters closer, Michael squinting, making out Jack's Vestra looping toward the complex. The passenger's side opens and Ryan free-falls for a few seconds before deploying his parachute. Jack flies back toward LSX as Ryan lands smoothly on the roof.

“Fucking cool guy Haywood over here,” calls Michael, crossing his arms over his bare chest as Ryan unbuckles his parachute pack, carelessly dropping it behind himself, skull mask quickly following.

Ryan approaches him with a single-minded purpose, and Michael’s glad that Geoff finally fucking splurged on rooftop furniture. He lies back on a lounger when Ryan pushes him toward it and crawls in between his legs. They'd been lazing around in the penthouse all evening, drinking and gaming, so he’s only wearing sagging pajama pants and his glasses. Ryan smells like gunpowder and iron, acridity of explosives caught in the flippy ends of Ryan’s hair. Thank fuck Ryan had taken off the mask when he’d dropped his parachute.

Ryan’s face paint is already smudged across Ryan’s face, and he’s sure it’s rubbing off on him, too, Ryan’s kisses fierce and open-mouthed. He drags his hands up under the part of Ryan’s leather jacket, pushing at it until Ryan gets the hint and shucks out of it. “Must’ve popped a coupla heads,” whispers Michael, Ryan biting at his mouth, grind of Ryan’s hard cock rough against his crotch.

“It was a very satisfying job,” answers Ryan, pulling off his t-shirt, uncaring of the face paint that inevitably wipes off on the fabric.

“Oh yeah?” Michael tugs at the button of Ryan’s pants, bucking up and rubbing himself against the bulge in Ryan’s jeans. “I couldn’t tell.”

Ryan shoves Michael’s hands away and works the button out of its catch himself. He steps off of the lounger and gets rid of the whole lot, kicking his pants and underwear aside before he deals with Michael’s pajama pants. Michael lifts his hips to help, pale skin nearly glowing in the fairy lights Ray insisted on stringing all over the place when he was blazed. He has to admit that he appreciates the atmosphere it creates, Michael deceptively angelic under the twinkle of lights. He chuckles. “Jesus, if anyone saw you like this they’d have no idea they were dealing with one of Los Santos’ most wanted.”

“Pretty sure they’d still have an idea about you,” says Michael, laughing and sitting up, catching Ryan’s wrist and hauling Ryan back between his legs.

“Now why would you say that?” asks Ryan, thumbing a streak of red across Michael’s cheek.

“Somethin’ about you, dude. Can’t put my finger on it.”

“What about your hand?” He guides Michael’s hand down between them, inching his hips closer and wrapping Michael’s fingers around them both. He exhales sharply, Michael smirking up at him and stroking their dicks. Michael bends his knees around Ryan’s hips, and he holds the side of Michael’s neck, leaning in for a kiss.

“Real smooth, Rye-bread,” says Michael quietly, pressure of Ryan’s thumb against his Adam’s apple making him gasp.

“Would be real smooth if you brought the  _lube_ ,” answers Ryan, gasping, Michael’s thumb teasing over both of their crowns.

“Wasn’t really expecting a ‘meet me on the roof’ tonight, asshole.” Michael laughs, breathing hitching when Ryan’s fingers tighten minutely around his throat. There’s red under Ryan’s fingernails, and he knows it’s not just Ryan’s face paint. “ _Fuck_.”

“Might’ve used a few… _alternative_  methods tonight.” Ryan notices the focus of Michael's gaze and picks at the red with his index finger, flakes peppering the pale length of Michael’s throat.

Michael moans, fucking against Ryan’s thick cock and into the curl of his fist around them. “H-how many?”

“With these hands?” asks Ryan, fingers of his left hand tenderly dragging up and down Michael’s neck, right hand gently pulsing around the other side. “More than I shot.”

“Fucking Christ, Ry.” Ryan could. He fucking  _knows_  Ryan could. Has  _seen_ it. But the fact that Ryan  _doesn’t–won’t–_ do the same to him makes his heartbeat quicken and his dick jerk in his fist. Ryan smiles down at him, and it should be fucking horrifying with that goddamn paint streaked across his face, but Ryan’s bright blue eyes still cut through Ryan’s facade and Michael can’t help smiling back.

“God, Michael, I’m gonna come,” says Ryan, folding their fingers together next to Michael’s head and relying on their movements to get them off. He kisses Michael’s throat, tongue sliding over a bruise he’d left there days ago. 

“An  _extremely_  satisfying job, then,” teases Michael, dicks slip-sliding through their precome, heat and pressure of their bellies adding to the pleasure.

“I am man enough to admit that I’m not going to last,” says Ryan, letting go of Michael’s hand and burying his fingers in Michael’s curls. “And a hot shower soon sounds amazing.”

“Then shut the hell up and keep moving.” Michael winds his arms around Ryan’s neck and pulls him close, sliding his tongue against Ryan’s and into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan still tastes like the goddamn bubble tape he blows after a job, slight sweetness such a contrast to the state of the rest of him. “Shit shit  _shit_ ,” he gasps, Ryan kissing across his collarbone, hips snapping against his own. Ryan kisses between his pecs, glancing up at him through his thick lashes as Ryan smirks and pinches a nipple between his teeth. “Ryan!”

Ryan hums, tip of his tongue fluttering against Michael’s reddened nipple as Michael spills between them. He keeps moving, Michael whimpering at the stimulation. Michael guides him to his other nipple and he happily sucks on it, jerking his hips, cock sliding through the mess of Michael’s release.

“Said you were gonna come, Ry, fuckin’ do it. Make a mess’a me,” pants Michael, stroking the solid muscles of Ryan’s shoulders, Ryan’s hips twitching before stilling, hot ribbons of Ryan’s orgasm making him grin.

He lets Ryan rest on top of him, the two of them catching their breath before Ryan’s weight becomes a bother. There’s enough room for them to lie side by side and he groans half-heartedly when Ryan rearranges them, his back against Ryan’s chest, arms curled together in front of him. Ryan rubs his abdomen with their twined hands, and he wrinkles his nose when their fingers slide through the splatter of come on his lower stomach. “About that shower…” he says quietly, no intentions of getting up, eyes closed, relishing the heat of Ryan curled around him.

“In a few minutes,” says Ryan, squeezing Michael and kissing Michael’s nape as the rooftop’s bathed in the sunrise.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://eclecticxdetour.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
